After having finished all desirable business in Kunming, we got our undies in a figurative bundle trying to get to the airport.
We had allotted a good amount of time to get to the airport, the plan was to get a taxi, get in the airport and go. But we forgot one of the things that'll only come up and bite yah when you at the worst time. It was taxi driver switching period. The time of day where the taxi driver is almost done with his shift and does not want to take a trio of sweaty Americans to the airport. We tried, in vain, to get a taxi but the few that would stop were fought over by mobs of Chinese. Our best chances would have been to tackle a mother and pull her child from the seat of the taxi and peel away. But since we
weren't those kind of people we resorted to plan B: the Bus. I got directions on the phone through my buddy Cale who was talking to the reception at our hotel. It was just a matter of 2 or 3 buses and you're there.
We made the first bus fine, and late as we were I tried not to look at the time too much, for it would hardly help matters, if we don't make it we don't make it. A tautology, yes, but it made sense; go to a beautiful country by plane or get trapped in an equally beautiful province which is an outdoorsman's dream, as I have previously mentioned, and not just in the Stone Forest. But I still really wanted to go. I like the passports stamps, sue me.
Well we got off and took what was to be our last bus, with no time to spare. Our eyes were peeled for telltale signs of the airport. We were to go three stops. And we did. Hopped off ready to dash and-we were at the same place we were 3 stops ago on the other side of the street. My mind was blown. It was as though all nature was working against us to make sure we don't go. Here might be a good time to mention the e-mail/warning my mother sent me about going to Thailand. It was for a
good reason. But we had already had 3 tickets so missing this flight would set off a chain reaction of money loss, and loss of beach time. What would you have done? We went anyway.
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Beach time = happiness |
Anyways, upon arriving at the same stop on the wrong side of the road, we ran across the busy street, hopped the median, and began flagging down taxi's, and tried to get them to take us to the airport, they all declined, stating a perfectly valid reason in Chinese I'm sure, but to my English hungry ears they were bupkis. Think we were out of time or nearly so I told a man nearby my dilemma and he agreed, three stops away by bus. Thinking it for a fluke, we got back on and tried again. And this time something clicked. The first stop said "airport". The street was under construction and so the bus route had been changed. We had a passed it before. Andy said, "I thought this place looked familiar but I didn't want to say anything."
We high-tailed it into the airport and waited patiently at customs. I was the first to get past, and I went forward to try to stop the plane or at least try to run along and grab the wheel in a very Toy Story 2 like moment. But to my felicitous surprise, the flight was delayed. We would have made it all along. Delayed for a while in fact. So delayed we even got a meal, so delayed we were wondering if we would miss our next flight, but that's another story. This was just a real life lesson from the Father on Matthew 6.
Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? I can't. But I have to relearn that lesson every now and then.